Cha Xiu Bao

Txulotxo in San Sebastain, Spain: can a foodie died of hyponatremia?

Txulotxo, San Juan 71, Pasai Donibane, San Sebastain, Spain

The air is cool here at the waterfront of Pasai Donibane, a secluded fishing village some sea gull-skimming miles to the east of San Sebastain. On a lonely autumn night, a solitary traveler was strolling down the harbor in his quest of some authentic Basque seafood. A breeze rolls down from the dark hills, rattling leaves and bringing scents of the still, early evening. The traveler gazed across the sheltered harbor dotted with fishing boats as far as the eye could see. Not far away ahead of his forsaken journey, he could make out his destination at last, Txulotxo, flickering in the glow of streetlight...

The traveler was damn thirsty by the time he reached the dining room. Truth was, he wasn't in any mood of being romantic or sentimental. Truth was, he hasn't had a drop of water since the breakfast. Truth was, he knew he should have picked up a bottle of Evian. But, kidding none, he's just a bloke. He asked for water straight away as he stormed in the dining room and started to gulp down the water like a fish as soon as it came.

Two glasses down and our friendless traveler was back to his senses. He was glad that the risk of dehydration was gone. So he started to flip over the menu. Much to his amazement, he saw Txulotxo has sagardoa, a unique Basque bubbly cider, in the list selling dirt cheap at only 4 euros! "I must try it." So he ordered a bottle and started poured himself a glass. Golly, we can see our traveler's whole body was screwing up. "Screw it, this drink is dead acidic! It wasn't for human," he sniveled. Still, he didn't want to waste it so he kept downing himself one glass after another. Soon, the one liter of aqua con gas was half done, so was the bottle of esoteric cider. "Water is good to the body, and wine good to the soul" our traveler said.

Minutes passed. The sopa de psecado (fish soup) our traveler ordered came. "Fish soup in a seafood restaurant in a fishing village, what a spot-on," pondered our traveler when he was ordering. The problem was, he missed to ask the waitress something of subtle significance for a lonely diner: the servings of the soup. When the soup came, we see our traveler's face turned into distortion; the soup thing came in a pot, intending to fill up five to six at least.

"Don't worry, fluid is good to our body and the soup smells damn good," our traveler tried to pull himself together.

Two bowlful down and our traveler look at the immense soup pot. It looked barely touched. The traveler's back was all wet by now. Panic has got the better of our traveler finally because now it occurred to him that he had once read in somewhere there were people died of hyponatremia, the opposite of dehydration. He knew there were, though not so many, people died of this every year. A bottle of water on his left, a cider on his right and a bowl of soup right on his centre... Our traveler started to feel dizzy and lightheaded. He looked for the bathroom. It was right behind him. But for no reason at all, it looked very very faraway...

The gurgling of water! Our traveler swore he could hear that noise in his stomach. It was perfectly obvious: he was ensnared in a abyss springed from his own decision!

Our traveler looked at the abyss, and the abyss look back at him...

At last something solid, some txangurroa (baked spider stuffed) came. Our traveler was slurring but the waitress put it down on his table anyway. Hell, no. Not even the shell could save our traveler from the slough. All he could do was raised his arm slowly and poured himself another round of sagaroda, another round of his self-made despair...

Eat San Sebastain! Something for your stockings

Because you've been good this year and because I want to make it seems like I care this is X'mas, I, St. Chaxiubao (St. for Stink, not Saint) have something in the cardboard boxes for you. Among the maelstrom of photo sets on the right, you'll find 2 Flickr photo sets wrapped up in perfectly charming tissue paper. One is an album of eats from San Sebastain. You'll behold some of the most irresistible pintxos (tapas) in the world in this album. I mean, tapas as a puffy pastry? If you ever want to see tapas in its most sophisticated and refined form, come to San Sebastain. In this season of cliches, I have to add this: it is the place to be.

The second is an album of Txulotxo, a restaurant that's a little bit off-flung from the city centre of San Sebastain. It's in a fishing village called Pasai Donibane. To get to this lovely secluded restaurant, you'll need to catch the bus, walk for a few minutes and take the "motora," a little motorboat that shuttle between the pier and the village.  But once you see the fishing boats tied up at the wharf, the appealing architecture of buildings around the waterfront and all that -- not to mentioned the yummy and authentic seafood flair, you'll find the hassle totally worthy!

Though they're already placed on the side bar, please don't tear off the wrappings until Boxing Day. We'll do this altogether like good friends should. Promise?

A Dear Santa Letter (with some Flickr photo sets)

Dear Santa Claus,

This year, I have been a very good little boy. I have not taken any junk food in any fast food chains, and I have always helped out my mommy's cooking if I happened to be in the kitchen and not tied up with other engagement, and I always do homework before I make up my restaurant decisions. And I always tip in cash, which makes me polite and so I deserve lots of presents this year!

Now the present! Please bring me all the bookings (confirmed, please) of all the great restaurants in the world that I still haven't been to, and one in El Bulli in particular (since their seats have been a real pain-in-the-axx to get) -- plus kitchen passes to it so I can feel the state-of-the-art kitchenware inside! Oh, and please don't forget to bring me some changes for taxi so that I don't have to go to those fancy restaurants by buses or on foot anymore. But if you can't, just remember that more than anything Santa, what I really really want is a win of the lottery!

Anyway, I hope you like the gwei ling go I left out for you. I left some honey aside in case you want to put some on top to easy up the bitterness.

Breathlessly,

Cha Xiu Bao

PS: Please say hello to Elena Arzak, Subijana of Akelare, Arbelaitz of Zuberoa and last but not the least, Martin Berasategui, I just can't forget their wonderful food ever since I tried (in case you can't remember who they're, you can see them on my Flickr photo sets to the right).

PPS: Oh yeah, remember the noodle shop just around the street corner? Their beef brisket noodles have been real bad all year long and doesn't deserve any Christmas present. So don't forget to put some droppings of your reindeer's in their stockings.

Thanks.

Eat Bilbao! Parte III

Thank god the pesky bug is finally gone. The support team of typepad.com said that I was piling up too much posts on my frontpage -- but, hey, how am I suppose to know there's a limit for this thing? Anyway, I did what they suggested me to do, that is, cutting down the posts to just 8 on the frontpage...

***************

In the old town of Bilbao (Casco Viejo), there is a famous joint called Breton. If you ever go to Bilbao, spend some time there. You will experience one of Basque's supreme ibericos establishment.

With an huge array of jamon de Joselito hanging atop, you know what this house is good for the moment you step in. It opens from morning till late at night. Sure, you can come here to have either a snack-out or a full-set dinner at night, as the restaurant is split down the middle: half a bar, half a restaurant. Think here as a neighborhood restaurant with a local clientele. The bar is busy and loud, the restaurant is equally busy and loud.

That's why I think the best time for we outsider to experience this outlet is in the morning. Coming here at ten in the morning after my light breakfast at the Cafe Boulevard, there was hardly anyone except me and the staff. I was alone and the stereo was playing some tunes. It was first Tom Jone's "It's Unusual," then it was Donna Summer's "She Works Hard For The Money," coming next with "All I Ask Of You" from Phantom Of The Opera. By the time they played the last one, I was, to be honest, a little misty. I was very much moved -- by this romantic music and by the sensational beef pintxos I was chewing. I was surprised to find out that this succulent and juicy piece of "Medallon de solomillo" was giving me a sort of gentle sensation! It was like I've reached a totally new level of eating. It was like I can pillow talk with my food, me and my pintxos. Good god, how I love this feeling!

Then there's the foie gras tapas (solomillo con foie). This one wasn't showing on display like other pintxos did. I ordered one with my bartender. And before I knew, he went to the kitchen and moments later, came back with a meltingly-tender and moisture foie gras tapas. I have never tasted any foie gras quite like this. Divinely delicate, yet so very down to earth, totally in a realm to itself.

Paired with some pleasant Rioja red, this is definitely feel-good factor to the max!

Eat Bilbao! Parte II

Bermo, September 29, 2005

37-39 Ercilla, Bilbao

Ok, lets be up front: I have the most heinous dinner in any Michelin-starred restaurant I have ever been to in Bermo. Just a one-star, but still! I don't usually post bad outlet. But Bermo is beyond awful.

I must give credit to everyone in the house for such a level of deficiency... It takes teamwork to achieve this, you know, just like what it takes for excellence. Better yet, they managed to keep that level consistent from start to end. Please don't get me wrong. I wasn't mad for the dinner. Rather, I remained curious the whole way through; curious to see how a starred restaurant, or the other way round, a respectable gourmet guide could fail. At the end, it was sad to find that my curiosity was better-feed than my appetite was. If by this far you still don't think I'm being saccharine, read on.

Once I warmed the chair with my rear ends I found something very odd in the astray. Looked closer, I was completely taken aback by what I found: a shelled prawn. How and why a prawn managed to find its way to my ashtray was totally inexplicable. Before long, the entree and the amuse boche were took out from the kitchen by the waiter. Mind you, this happened in less than ten seconds after I had given my order. The amuse boche was placed on my table while my foie gras, the entree, was resting in a table within my eyesight with staleness.

By now, the message was bloody clear to anyone who's not blind: I was having dinner in the most unpretentious restaurant I've been to, no less a very posh one. Period. People always complain luxury and pretentious are twins. They obviously haven't been to Bremo. There's nothing wild to fancy with -- most of the dishes in the degustation menu were pre-cooked (I couldn't tell whether the tuna and the duck breast were, but the others definitely were). "Dear customers, at Bermo, we are obliged to make sure you know all the things that we know. With a 55-euro bill, you deserve it." Next up, my second entree came. It was prawn and "Ibericos" ham in cold melon soup. Great to find the prawn was very familiar to what I saw moments ago. In Chinese we have an idiom that goes "吾熟吾食," which means it's better to eat what you are familiar with. I must confess I didn't realized what it means until then... The finale, "chef degustation desserts," a compilation of moistureless cakes and creams that could have easily found in any bakery, proved what was on my mind all night long was damn right: Bermo is a high class rut.

But these flimsy food were just drops in the ocean. I must also compliment my waiter. The way he poured water into my glass reminded me the Niagara Fall. Thank god the restaurant wasn't flooded. My glass was filled at last but so was the tablecloth. Enough. I was impressed.

Eat Bilbao! Parte I

If you ever travel to Bilbao this year, I beg you to take a copy of their GastroMap 2005. This is the only map you will ever needed for traveling in Bilbao (from a foodie's perspective). There is no better time to visit Bilbao than this year -- for it is the Year of Basque Gastronomy (okay, I admit, it's rather inconsiderate for me to say this at this time of year). I was so grateful that I have taken a copy from the tourism counters right after I landed Bilbao. From thence, Bilbao sizzles every single moment!

What they do -- this is something our all-mouthy Hong Kong tourism board should learn and follow suit -- are putting pretty much all the best eating and drinking joints of the city into different categories and indexing them all on the map. With information about eateries of Bilbao covered in English in such a short supply, this unerring little map really comes in handy!

The first shrine I went after with the map was a bar called Bar Iruna, heralded as a "Pintxos Clasicos" by the Bilbao people. Just two blocks off the Gran Via (around Plaza Circular), Iruna is in halves with one decorated with bright tiles in Moorish fashion whereas another reeked of decadence with a ceiling of stucco panels and wooden fans. Then I moved on for my laziest classic pintxos pilgrimage on earth, I went for my second shrine at Bar Ledesma, which is just a corner turn away from Bar Iruna. Being such a big fan of traditional tapas, this pintxos double-header was as much as I could ever ask for.

Just a tad further along, I crossed Ponte del Arenal en route to Casco Viejo, the old neighborhood. There, I reached Cafe Boulevard, a delicatessen right across Teatro Arriaga. Totally tranced by the outlook of this quaint cafe, I suddenly found myself in a musical groove and started crooning my version of Sunset Boulevard. " Sunset Boulevard, headline boulevard. Getting here is only the beginning. Sunset Boulevard, jackpot boulevard. Once you've won you have to go on eating..." I sneaked in my boulevard before any of my fellow pedestrians started to turn head by the twisting noise I made... Okay, I know, I'd better focus on what I do best: eating.

But the show must go on. I must not let it stop. So I cruised on my way to Plaza Nueva. What do I got here? Cafe Bilbao! Yet another place for my classic pintxos hunt. It is dubbed as a "cafe typico" by the locals. All the pintxos were lovely and I swore to god I wanted to try them all. But I was already too full after all these rounds of killing. It was 5 in the afternoon and I really needed to take a rest before I raise the curtain of Bermo, one of the only 2 Michelin-starred restaurants in Bilbao, in less than 3 hours...

...Parte I, TBC

On the right you'll find my Eat Bilbao! Flickr set, gigormously built with 126 pictures. Bon Appetit!

Bars in Logroño (Spain)

Lest you've missed it, the Flickr set of "Bars in Logroño" has been posted to the right for just about 3 days.

There're several dozens of bodegas around Logroño, the capital of La Rioja, which makes it a perfect pivot for a vineyard tour in La Rioja. It's a small town with a population less than 150,000 and there's virtually no bus or tram in the town whatsoever. The only public transportation available, if it counts, is the taxi. If you hate the idea of getting around everywhere by a taxi, my advice is to either go for a car rental or to spend nights in a hotel that's right in the centre of all the actions. The one I lived was called Marques de Vallejo, which is pretty sleek and within stone-throw distance to more or less all the places I needed to go, i.e. bars and restaurantes!

For serious bar-diving and tapas quest, among all the streets ("calle" in Spanish) in Logroño, there's only one you'd need to know: the one called "Calle del Laurel." This is the place where all the bars nestled in. A few blocks away, there's also a street called "San Juan," but it's less happening when compared with Laurel.

San Mateo at night, Logroño

Don't get me wrong, San Mateo in Logrono by the day is fun; you can nibble all those great La Riojas at super bargain fare like there's no tomorrow. Then you can always drop by one, or couple more vineyards if both your consciousness and time allow and try great vintages you can never come by outside Spain. That, no doubt is great but certainly not all. Gee, this town really comes alive when the sun goes down (allow me to put it this way: as exuberant as any youthful great red from La Rioja!). Click here for the Flickr set on San Mateo Por Noche, the fest by the night.

By the way, just wondering what is the rules for the Pulitzer Prize. Do they have any sub-group for entries from foodies? I mean, what's the chance for someone to take a photo that has a bullfighter (a matador with no cape but a sex doll, no less), a Marilyn Monroe and a Fallen Angel meeting each other in Spain? There goes one of the wantonest pictures in the history of journalism. What's wrong with the Viking pirates too? Aren't they supposed to do something very vice and mean instead of giggling aside in such a jolly mood? Sometimes the best work of photography is one that doesn't compute, right?

Invitation to Wine [將進酒]: San Mateo in Logroño, Spain

將進酒                               李白

       君不见，黄河之水天上来，奔流到海不复回。
　　君不见，高堂明镜悲白发，朝如青丝暮成雪。
　　人生得意须尽欢，莫使金樽空对月。
　　天生我材必有用，千金散尽还复来。
　　烹羊宰牛且为乐，会须一饮三百杯。
　　岑夫子，丹丘生，将进酒，君莫停。
　　与君歌一曲，请君为我侧耳听。
　　钟鼓馔玉不足贵，但愿长醉不复醒。
　　古来圣贤皆寂寞，惟有饮者留其名。
　　陈王昔时宴平乐，斗酒十千恣欢谑。
　　主人何为言少钱，径须沽取对君酌。
　　五花马，千金裘，呼儿将出换美酒，
　　与尔同销万古愁。

Invitation to Wine
                                         Li Bai

Do you not see how the Yellow River's waters come from the sky,
    Racing into the sea and ne'er come back?
Do you not see how grievous your locks in mirrors bright in high chambers,
    Though silken-black at morning, changed by night to snow-white?
Oh, my man of spirit,
drink your life in full delight.
Never leave your golden carafe empty in moonlight.
Since heaven gave us the talent, let it not be ruin!
A thousand gold and silver spent, more will turn up again.
Cook a sheep, kill a cow and let the merry be,
We must drink three hundred bowls of wine in high glee.
    Dear friends of mine, Cen and Danqiu,
        Cheer up, cheer up!
    I invite you to wine
        Do not put down your cup.
Let me sing you a number!
O, hear! Lend me your willing ear!
What difference will dear and rare dishes make?
If I only want to get drunk and never to wake!
How many great men and sages are forgotten through the ages?
How, but the great drinkers are more famous than sober sages.
The Prince of Poets feast'd in his palace at will,
Ten thousand silvers for a cask of wine, with many a laugh to fill.
Why say, my host, that your money is short?
To drink with you I will sell things of any sort!
My flower-dappled horse,
My thousands-worthy furs,
Hand them to the boy to exchange for good wine,
And we'll drown away the woes of ten thousand generations!

                                                                                    Translation by CXB

********************

Worry not my friend. My blog isn't changing into one about the appreciation of Chinese poetry. Just that I consider this passionate poet by the "God of Poet" or "Poet Immortal" of us makes a perfect overture to the wine harvest festival that celebrates San Mateo, the Patron of La Rioja. Yes, I was there celebrating San Mateo in Logroño as well, drinking as many as three hundred glassful of wine everyday -- though I must admit it was hard done by to take the words of "God of Poet" in reality. Do you not see how the sweet dew of La Rioja's vines rushing into Chaxiubao's gullet? Click here to see the entire Flickr photo set.

Sadly, there are so little information about this adorable wine festival featured in the media. Coverage about it in travel guidebooks can best be described as nominal -- even the official tourism website of La Rioja doesn't have it in English (perennially in the "working on the translation" status).

Unlike them, I have heart and nothing in this world can put out my eternal flame for wine. I want my share of La Rioja at its prime. So off I went. To Logroño, the capital of the La Rioja province. Glad to see that every droplet of my bravado was well spent. Great wine selling at wholesale price, with unbelievably friendly and helpful people. Our bond is close in our love for wine. Just bring in the wine and ignore the barrier in linga.

From Barcelona With Pork: Some Michelin-starred eateries in Barcelona

What a lump in the throat! Can someone please teach me how to get rid of that annoying "www.flickr.com" label from the albums on my "Fotos" sidebar? It is immortally revolting, like someone putting a blue plastic bucket under a Caravaggio's masterpiece just so to ruin your mood. Not that my photos are of any good, but they're about the subject food, right? I simply can't stand my divine subject be maimed by anyone.

Anyway, enough for my ranting. On the right you'll see a collection of 5 photo albums taken from those Michelin-garlanded establishments in Barcelona. The first four are Alkimia, Jean Luc Figueras, Gaig, and Abac. The last one, Cinc Sentis, is yet to crown a macaron by the Michelin.

There could be so much to say about dining in Barcelona. Yet, when we get down to the bottom of it, my advice is simple: go with flow and try to enjoy tapas as far as possible. Unless you're someone who must live on prodigal, one, or two at most of these lavish starlets (no restaurant in Barcelona has clinched 2 or more Michelin stars so far) would be enough to visit. The basics, whether they boost a modern style (Alkimia and Abac) or a traditional (Gaig and Jean Luc Figueras) one, are more or less very similar. One point in check: all these outlets have implanted roasted suckling pig in the set. Regulars of this blog know very well I love all thing porcine -- but up to a point! By the time I was in Abac, which was the fourth starred restaurant I tried in Barcelona, I was so done with this piglet engulfment that I had to switch it with something else from the a la carte menu. Fish, veal, or game, whatever. Just no more pork fetish! In retrospect, I was too much distracted by the Michelin Red Guide. I should have spent time in exploring the tapas culture.

Cinc Sentis, on the other hand, is another story. I went there because of the high praise I've seen in the eGullet forum. Unlike the other four, CS serves international cuisine. You can get a glue of this easily by the choice of word "Okamase Menu" rather than "Set menu" in print. Review in short: friendly and well-trained staff along with a very reasonable price.